


shakin' at the knees (can i come again, please?)

by inkk



Series: the fabulous adventures of fratboy dave & stoner kirk [1]
Category: Megadeth, Metallica
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe - College/University, Being Walked In On, Blow Jobs, Closeted Character, Face-Fucking, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Minor Praise Kink, Promiscuity, Wet & Messy, dave is a frat boy, kirk is kind of a stoner and also a huge slut, they fuuuuuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:40:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24713236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkk/pseuds/inkk
Summary: Kirk pushes his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. Stupid frat houses. Stupid frat parties. He really doesn't know why Lars keeps dragging him along to these things, because he inevitably just gets bored, and then trashed, and then makes an idiot of himself every single time.Whatever.
Relationships: Kirk Hammett/Dave Mustaine, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: the fabulous adventures of fratboy dave & stoner kirk [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1918543
Comments: 16
Kudos: 65





	shakin' at the knees (can i come again, please?)

**Author's Note:**

> damn... quarantine is really doin a number on me lmao. i truly have no idea where this idea came from, and it's definitely more of a 'rough draft' than a masterpiece, but it was still a lot of fun to write.  
> anyways.  
> title from Thunderstruck ... because i swear every time i've ever been in the vicinity of a frat, it's come on at least once. talk about a cliché.  
> -  
> originally written with KEA kirk in mind, but i like to imagine dave with his style more closely aligned to 1990/1991 (cause holy shit, that hair!!)  
> & finally, i'd also like to present [this image](https://images.app.goo.gl/WoLuRQEbEGxq8CWy7) for your consideration.  
> xo !!
> 
> \--  
>  **update (sep 1, 2020):** this now has a [sequel](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26229781)!

+

The thing is, Kirk is drunk.

Like, four-drinks-deep drunk. And maybe kinda stoned from the blunt he shared with Lars an hour ago, but whatever; point is, he’s feeling good. He’s at the point where he’s a little wobbly on his feet as he makes his way up the stairs, but also carefree enough to not give a shit when he accidentally knocks into some dude and gets a firm shove in return. “Watch it, twinkie.”

Kirk mumbles an absent apology. It's kinda dark in the upstairs hallway, which makes him squint. Even with his glasses on, his night vision is still absolute shit. And his head is sorta spinning a little. But it's cool. It's fine. He can manage. There are about six closed doors, but eventually one of them has to be the bathroom, right?

He pushes his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. Stupid frat houses. Stupid frat parties. He really doesn't know why Lars keeps dragging him along to these things, because he inevitably just gets bored, and then trashed, and then makes an idiot of himself every single time.

_Whatever._

He stands there for a second and tries to decide which door would be the bathroom, then just opens the one closest to him, which turns out to be a dark bedroom. Next.

Dark bedroom. Next.

Closet full of random junk. Next.

Another bedroom; this time, with a lamp on. Someone on the bed. Kirk registers a familiar mess of long, orange hair and a face tilted up, lips parted in a soundless gasp. He stands in the doorway for a second, blinking.

It takes a second for Kirk to actually comprehend what he’s seeing, and then it hits him all at once like a sucker punch to the kidney: Dave motherfucking Mustaine, jeans shoved down his thighs, one hand resting posessively on a head of dark, fluffy hair bobbing in the vicinity of his lap.

_Oh, shit._

At first, Kirk assumes it's some random chick. But then there's a deep, wet cough as she pulls off and looks up, and holy shit, it’s not a chick at all: it’s _Marty_. 

Or maybe Nick. Kirk doesn't actually know which one, because there are like fifty guys in Zeta Psi and he can't keep them all straight, but the important thing is that it is one hundred percent, certainly, definitely, for sure one of the brothers.

“Oh, shit,” Kirk finally says aloud. He watches Marty-or-Nick’s eyes widen in realization, hears someone say “Oh, Jesus fucking Christ,” and then all of a sudden Dave motherfucking Mustaine is barrelling towards him and he’s being marched backwards out the door.

Kirk’s breath escapes in a shocked huff as his back hits the wall opposite. Dave’s hand is quick to curl into the front of his shirt, knuckles digging into Kirk’s sternum. He's easily a little over six feet tall, which means he’s big enough to loom over Kirk, practically seething with anger, which is definitely super scary and menacing, except—

“Dude, your dick is hanging out.”

Dave snarls and grabs him by the face for that one. Which Kirk probably deserved, but whatever; not his fault the guy’s pants are hanging wide open. And if Dave was that concerned about being caught in a compromising position, maybe he should have locked the damn door.

“If you tell anyone about this, I will make your life a living hell,” Dave hisses in Kirk’s face, squeezing his cheeks so hard his lips puff out like a bad imitation of a fish. “Understand?”

 _Sure_ , Kirk tries to say. It comes out like “Phrr.”

Dave stares down at him for a moment, as if assessing whether his threat got through properly or not. Then he slackens his grip on Kirk’s face, just enough so that he can slam Kirk’s skull back against the wall. He’s gone before Kirk can even gasp in pain.

“Mother _fucker_ ,” Kirk mumbles as the door slams shut. He frowns and massages the back of his head for a second, deciding that no, he doesn't really want to keep looking for the bathroom anymore. He doesn’t really want to stick around to wait for Dave or Nick-or-Marty to reemerge, either.

He drifts back downstairs in something of a haze, woozily making his way back to the living room. It’s like the image of Nick-or-Marty pulling off of Dave’s cock is seared into his brain as he plops himself down on the couch, staring at nothing.

Dude-on-dude action isn't exactly a huge deal or anything, given the fact that Kirk himself is, like, a perfect three on the Kinsey scale. But he typically prides himself on having a fairly high-functioning gaydar, so he’s just… He’s shaken up about it, that's all. And he’s still shaken up when Lars tracks him down in the kitchen forty five minutes later.

“Hey, man, how’s it going?” he grins, hooking an arm around Kirk’s shoulder and pulling him in. He smells like B.O. and cheap perfume.

Kirk takes a swig of whichever lukewarm, grapefruit-flavoured cooler some girl handed him fifteen minutes ago.

“It’s going,” he says heavily.

It occurs to him that he could tell Lars about what happened, but that thought is quickly followed by a vision of Dave’s angry face, and then a vision of himself in a full-body cast.

Kirk knows better, anyways — Lars is a loudmouth of the renowned sort, and although Kirk loves him to pieces, he also knows that Lars has a chronic inability to keep secrets. No one in their right mind would subject another human being to the feeding frenzy that is campus gossip.

Kirk sighs. His skull throbs dully. _Fuck it,_ he thinks, taking another swig. _It’s Dave’s business who he sticks his dick in, not mine._

Lars carries obliviously on without him, chattering idly in his ear — something about whichever girl he's busy trying to impress this week — but Kirk just tunes him out. He fingers the neck of his bottle and looks off towards the living room.

Which is, of course, when Dave motherfucking Mustaine himself comes plodding down the stairs and pauses in the doorway, meeting Kirk’s eyes before Kirk can look away. His jaw clenches slightly, and then he gives a barely-perceptible nod.

Kirk returns it.

Somehow, someway, and by sheer bad luck, he is now stuck sharing a dirty little secret with Dave Mustaine.

+

It’s a blessing that Kirk doesn't see Dave for a week after the party. The two of them rarely cross paths, and it’s not like they have any classes together this semester, but Kirk’s still antsy about running into him anyway.

True to his word, he’s kept his mouth shut — he’s not suicidal — but some juvenile part of him still thinks Dave is going to shove him in a proverbial locker, or give him a wedgie, or something. Years of vicious bullying in high school have conditioned him to expect the worst.

Even though the incident at last week’s party was an honest and inebriated mistake, he finds himself unexpectedly haunted by it. And maybe sort of... weirdly, uncomfortably intrigued.

In all honesty, it’s fucking with his libido.

He keeps zoning out mid-jerkoff and coming back to the mental image of it; of Dave, on that bed, with one big hand spread wide on the back of that other dude’s head, and— maybe Kirk finds himself wondering if he could do that. If he could make Dave make sounds like that.

He knows it's weird and probably a little fucked up for him to be jacking his dick to the memory of walking in on someone at a party, but he can’t seem to help it. The whole situation plays into that weird phenomenon where somehow, if you're already halfway through beating off, everything suddenly becomes fair game. 

It’s just… It’s _Dave. ___

__Dave is the problem._ _

__Even if Kirk didn't know that Dave was into guys — small guys with dark, frizzy hair, his mind helpfully supplies — there's not a doubt in his mind that he would still find Dave attractive. Because Dave is, well… kinda fucking hot. He’s got it going on, with the red hair, and the height, and all that. And it's not Kirk’s fault that he has a soft spot for stupid asshole jocks._ _

__He’s long since come to terms with the fact that his sexual preferences are a train wreck, but he just cannot, so help him God, shake the image of Dave’s cock sliding out of that guy’s lips. And now somewhere along the line, he's gotten confused and started wishing they were his lips. And his tongue. And his hands._ _

__Kirk’s hand moves a little faster on himself, breath quickening. He bites his lip. He wonders if Dave would praise him every now and then, or if he’d be the type to just slap him around a bit and really go to town. Maybe holding his head and fucking his throat, really gripping tight and not letting go until he was crying—_ _

__And then, before he even knows it, he’s coming._ _

__..._ _

_Ah, fuck._

__Kirk lies there for a second, just blinking up at the ceiling as he waits for his breathing to slow and for his rational brain to catch up. Then he wipes off, cracks his window, lights a joint, and spends a good five minutes thinking about what a schmuck he is._ _

__There's an encroaching sense of dread as he brushes his teeth that night, and he finds himself frowning at his reflection in the mirror. Because seriously, who the fuck gave Dave Mustaine permission to start making appearances in his sexual fantasies?_ _

__

__+_ _

__

__“Listen,” Dave says a week later, “We need to talk.”_ _

__Kirk freezes mid-escape. Dave’s hand is heavy on his shoulder, squeezing down on his collarbone ever so slightly, and Kirk’s grip tightens on the sweaty plastic of his Solo cup. All rational thought seems to suddenly flee his mind._ _

_Damn it._

__He was really, really hoping that eight days would have been enough for Dave to just forget about it and let the whole thing slide, but apparently not._ _

__“Yeah, hi,” Kirk belatedly replies, a nervous laugh bubbling up. He glances around at the other partygoers, unable to look Dave in the eye. “Uh, now?”_ _

__Dave’s eye-roll is palpable. “Yes, _now_.”_ _

__He doesn't wait for Kirk to agree before grabbing him by the bicep, effortlessly dragging him up the stairs like a bratty first-grader._ _

__“Hey, fuck, ow,” Kirk protests as Dave manhandles him into his room, plucking the cup out of Kirk’s hand and setting it aside. “Look, man, this is about what happened last weekend, I’m sorry. I-I was way too drunk and it was a total accident, but I didn’t tell anyone, y’know, so if you're gonna, like, punch me—”_ _

__Dave’s right hand lands flat against his sternum, pressing him back until he’s crowded up against the closet doors. Kirk inhales a panicked breath, bracing for the worst, and then Dave tilts his chin up and kisses him._ _

__Kirk shuts up._ _

__He also doesn't really kiss back right away, but to be fair, what the fuck._ _

__“Man,” Dave leans back after a second. “You fucking reek like weed.”_ _

__“Oh,” Kirk says dumbly. He licks his lips. “Yeah. Sorry, I just… You— What?”_ _

__Dave shrugs, but doesn't back off. His eyes look dark in the dim light, face shadowed by a curtain of his hair. “If you're not into it, go.”_ _

__“Oh,” Kirk repeats, taken aback. “No, I-I am. I think. Yeah. But I thought— I mean, I thought you were gonna punch my fucking head in, and— and— and.”_ _

__Dave snorts. “I wouldn't punch you,” he says, like it’s the most absurd thing he’s ever heard. “You're tiny.”_ _

__Kirk feels his cheeks get hot. “That’s not the point,” he says, shoving his glasses up his nose. It’s hard to think straight when Dave is standing close enough that his hair is brushing against Kirk’s shoulder. “I just— You don't even like me, man.”_ _

__“Sure I do,” Dave says. “Everybody says you give the best blowjobs around.”_ _

_Oh._

__Okay. So that’s where this is heading._ _

__Kirk makes a strange, strangled little noise. Dimly, it occurs to him that Dave’s statement probably has a few incredibly heavy implications as to his promiscuity, but he doesn't really have time to process that right now._ _

__“Is it true?” Dave presses quietly. Playfully. Unhurried. As if he's got Kirk exactly where he wants him. “Because I bet it’s true.”_ _

__His hand is cupping Kirk’s jaw now, the pad of one calloused thumb brushing over his lower lip. Kirk’s tongue darts out to meet it before he can stop himself. He can feel his cock twitch to life in his pants, guts twisting uncomfortably. All of a sudden his skin feels hot all over._ _

__This is really not how he was expecting tonight to go._ _

__If someone had come to Kirk nine days ago and told him that this would happen — that Dave Mustaine, Known Heterosexual Bully, would drag him upstairs and generously offer his dick up on a silver platter — Kirk would have had himself a good giggle over it._ _

__But now._ _

His brain is running a mile a minute, churning over the pros and cons ( _closet case, bad idea, really hot, could be fun, no one has to know_ ) as he stares up at Dave, and then Dave shifts a little, thigh brushing against his his groin ever-so-slightly, and oh, no, he’s a goner. He’s doomed. His dick has decided and the course of action has been set into motion. 

Kirk blinks up at Dave and mumbles a weak, reedy little "yeah." 

__The smirk that spreads across Dave’s face is a mix of satisfaction and hunger, and it’s hot. It’s so, so very hot. “Yeah?”_ _

__Kirk nods, almost imperceptibly. Dave brushes his knuckles against Kirk’s cheek. “You wanna put that to the test?”_ _

__Kirk’s lips part in a shaky inhale. He nods again. Distantly, a chorus of angels starts to sing._ _

__When Dave kisses him again, this time Kirk is ready. His hands fly up to Dave’s chest as Dave pushes him up against the closet doors anew, Kirk's fingers splaying wide across the thin fabric of his t-shirt and the hot skin beneath._ _

__He probably could have ventured a guess that Dave would be an aggressive kisser, but it wouldn't have been the same as experiencing it firsthand. The way Dave positions himself practically exudes machismo; he has one controlling hand on Kirk’s jaw and the other on the back of his head as he towers over him, pressing in so close that Kirk feels like he hardly has room to breathe. He feels like he’s doing his best just to keep up, but it would be a lie if he said he wasn’t enjoying it. He would write a sonnet about Dave’s firm and shapely pecs, maybe, if he weren’t so focused on the tongue in his mouth._ _

__By the time Dave finally pulls back, Kirk is practically swooning from a combined lack of blood and oxygen to his brain. It also seems like this would be the right time for him to get busy, so he does: he ducks his head and pops the button of Dave's jeans, just like that. The downward drag of the zipper is loud in the quiet of the room._ _

__And... Okay, yeah, they're gonna have to do something about that. Because Kirk is not down to listen to himself choke on dick in absolute silence. Fuck._ _

__“Do you, uh,” Kirk hesitates, keeping his gaze lowered. “Music?”_ _

__Dave huffs a snarky, amused breath. “If you want.”_ _

__His hand slips from Kirk's face as he takes a step back, moving over to the shelves of records beside his desk — because of course, Dave Mustaine is the kind of guy who would have a vinyl collection spanning four shelves. Kirk takes a second to breathe while he picks one out. His heart rate is doing a cool 160 and his armpits are sweating like there's no tomorrow, but holy fucking shit, this is really happening. Oh, wow._ _

__He watches Dave fiddle with the player for a second before dropping the needle. When the grating intro rings out through the room, Kirk is more than a little surprised to identify it as the newest Venom album bellowing out of the speakers._ _

It’s the same one Lars got shipped over from the UK after it came out back in November — the two of them got stoned and listened to it every night for about three weeks straight, until Lars got his grubby little paws on _Live Evil_ in December and became infatuated with that instead. Kirk figures _Black Metal_ is just as good a blowjob soundtrack as any, though; suitably cool, and kind of a turn-on. If Dave had put on Michael Jackson he may have been forced to just get up and leave. 

__The music selection, however, still doesn't hold a candle to the sight of Dave standing there with his jeans undone like the stupid, sexy frat boy he is._ _

"C'mere," Dave beckons, in that stupid, sexy way. 

Kirk does. He can pinpoint the instant when all thoughts of chord progressions immediately flying straight out the fucking window. 

__Fortunately, he knows this part well. He knows he’s good at it, too, and he’s got enough confidence to take the lead, grabbing hold of Dave’s hips and urging him back against the desk. His skinny knees hit the floor right as the vocals kick in._ _

__When he moves to take off his glasses, though, Dave lifts a hand to stop him — “Leave ‘em on,” he says, “They’re fuckin’ cute as shit.”_ _

__“They— They’ll fog up,” Kirk says._ _

__Dave smirks. "If you’re working hard."_ _

__Kirk’s face feels like it's on fire. He quickly busies himself with his task, wasting no more time before tucking his fingers into the waistband of Dave’s pants and working them down, exposing muscled thighs with a dusting of pale hair, a pair of blue trunks… and the centrepiece: that glorious, glorious bulge._ _

__If Kirk’s a tease, he’ll own it. There's just something incredibly satisfying about the soft curse Dave breathes out when Kirk gropes him over top of the material, sliding deft fingers over the shape of him and squeezing. Gently. Getting a feel for what he's working with._ _

__When he finally leans in to flatten his tongue against the material, slowly dragging it up, Dave loosely pushes one hand into Kirk’s hair. His cock is flushed and heavy when Kirk pulls it out, sliding the underwear down his thighs._ _

__This part of the fantasy was right, too, because upon closer inspection, Dave is... big. Not in the exaggerated porn star sense, but longer than average, and on the thick side. Cut. Flushed a pretty shade of red._ _

__He’s also done a little bit of manscaping, too, which— well, that's besides the point. But it’s kind of a nice surprise._ _

__If there's a graceful way to spit on someone’s cock, Kirk hasn't quite figured it out yet. Dave doesn't seem to mind, though; he just reaches out to stroke Kirk’s cheek again, like Kirk is some sort of startled animal. Kirk looks up at him as he gives his cock a few slow, experimental strokes, fist loose and easy._ _

__“Yeah,” Dave says quietly. His shifts a little, widening his stance. “C’mon, Hammett. Show me what you can do.”_ _

__Kirk gives him a little smile for that. He knows he has the overall visage of a naïve virgin dweeb, but tonight, he vows he's going to give Dave the blowjob to end all blowjobs. He’s going to ruin oral sex for Dave for the rest of his life. He wants to bring Dave Mustaine to his fucking knees and have him begging for more._ _

__He has a reputation to uphold, goddammit._ _

__The song tumbles smoothly into the bridge just as Kirk finally relents and takes Dave into his mouth. He makes it a little over halfway on the first go, relishing the shocked little grunt it pulls from Dave’s chest._ _

__The hand in his hair flexes a little when he draws back, just enough to tongue over the head of Dave’s cock before relaxing his jaw and bobbing back down, repeating the motion a little further each time as he warms up._ _

__It’s easy to build up a rhythm from there on out. He was curious whether the girth would be hard to handle, but nevertheless, he takes Dave’s cock like a seasoned pro — slow to start, working his tongue along the underside, using both hands to cover what his mouth can't. He finds himself periodically focusing in on the music, and the downy hair on Dave’s stomach, and the smell of his stupid, sexy frat boy cologne. He briefly wonders if Lars has gone looking for him yet._ _

__When it comes down to it, Dave is unexpectedly polite. He's almost rigid in his stillness as he stands there, one hand lightly petting at Kirk's hair while the other clutches at the back of his desk chair, the muscles in his forearm thrown into stark relief. Absently, Kirk lets go with one hand and reaches down to grind his palm into his own neglected cock, hips shifting into the rough friction of it._ _

__He gets almost all the way down to a deepthroat before he has to pull off to take a proper breather. When he clumsily wipes his chin and looks up through watery eyes, Dave is looking back down at him, face flushed, mouth slack, red hair loose and wild. He looks like every wet dream Kirk has ever had._ _

__Dave licks his lips. “Take it out,” he directs, voice rough._ _

__Kirk hesitates. "What?"_ _

__“Cmon,” Dave says, lightly chucking him under the chin. “I wanna watch you play with yourself.”_ _

_Ho-ly shit._

__Kirk doesn't need to be told a third time. He drops his hands to fumble at the fly of his jeans. He doesn’t know why, but his hands are shaking as he yanks the shitty little zipper down and finally gets a hand around his dick. Those first two strokes feel like fucking heaven._ _

__Above him, Dave makes a sultry, cut-off groan. Kirk looks up and his mouth drops open a little, because oh, god, he’s jerking himself off to the sight of Kirk jerking off._ _

__That sight alone might be one of the hottest fucking things Kirk has ever seen — including that time he sucked Jason off in the back of James’ car last year. And that time he and Lars had a threesome with that goth girl. And that time he and Lars got really stoned and—_ _

__“I want you to fuck my mouth,” he blurts out._ _

His voice cracks a little on the words, disappearing meekly into the starting notes of _Buried Alive_ , but Dave hears it anyways. Kirk watches as his eyebrows quirk up in interest, smirk playing at his lips. He knows he sounds like a cheap slut and he doesn't care. 

"You're just full of surprises, aren't you?" Dave remarks, smug enough to curdle milk. 

Kirk feels his cheeks flush even worse. "I thought you were straight until last week," he retorts in a low mumble, reaching up to take off his glasses. 

Dave doesn't deign to respond to that. Instead, he wordlessly reaches out to take the frames from Kirk’s sweaty hand, placing them gently on the desk behind him. 

__The record blares on as Dave's hand raises to cup the back of Kirk’s head. He gives Kirk a moment to shift forward a little, allowing him time to adjust his posture before he finally guides Kirk’s mouth to his cock, dragging him all the way down in one smooth motion._ _

__Kirk’s stomach lurches when Dave’s cock hits the back of his throat — he can’t help it. His eyes squeeze shut and his back arches with the force of the gag, hands flying up to Dave’s hips, but he keeps leaning into it, keeps holding his breath. Above him, Dave mutters a curse._ _

__He wastes no time starting to move. Slower at first, and then with increasing fluidity, pushing and pulling at Kirk’s head as he sees fit. After the first minute or two, Kirk feels himself relax into the rhythm as well. The thick, viscous drool running down his chin makes the glide easy as Dave picks up the pace._ _

__“So fuckin’ pretty,” Dave mutters, tugging Kirk in close and angling his head up so he can slide in easy. “Pretty little baby, choking on my cock.”_ _

__One of his hands wanders curiously down to Kirk's throat as he slows, pushing in once, twice, three times, and Kirk lets out a desperate groan as he realizes Dave is feeling himself there. The sound of it is filthy; like a strained, choked-off gargle. Dave’s hands flex in his hair, hips shoving forward even further, and Kirk can't help but to reach down to fist his own cock._ _

__“Fuck,” Dave says breathlessly, thrusts turning shallow, “Is this what gets you hard? Being used?”_ _

__He says it with something akin to awe, or disbelief, as if Kirk beating off while getting his face fucked is the hottest thing he's ever seen. Kirk manages the barest gesture of a nod. It’s true; he’s lightheaded, unable to catch a proper breath, eyelashes wet with tears, and still leaking precum onto the carpet._ _

__It’s a relief when Dave finally pulls him off, allowing him a moment of reprieve. Kirk coughs wetly and reaches out again, blindly jacking him with his right hand as he shakes his head to clear the tears from his eyes._ _

And then, horror of horrors, the record ends. 

__Kirk falters as the song comes to a halt and the music cuts out, silence falling abruptly over the two of them._ _

"Shit," Dave mutters under his breath. Talk about ruining the moment. 

__Before Kirk can muster the braincells to either laugh or keep going, Dave is already brushing him off and turning to flip the record to side two. The needle drops clumsily this time, landing halfway through the first verse, but he makes no attempt to reposition it._ _

__Kirk makes another eager grab for his hips as he turns around, but Dave stops him, one hand gripping the wet skin of his jaw. Kirk stares back up at him in confusion. Without glasses on, Dave's face is disconcertingly blurry, but the darkness in the wells of his eyes speaks volumes._ _

__“Fuck it,” Dave finally mutters, reaching down to pull Kirk to his feet by one skinny bicep, “Change of plans.”_ _

__Kirk doesn't even have time to wipe the saliva from his face before Dave’s hands are at the waist of his jeans, shoving them down his hips with singleminded ferocity._ _

__“Okay, woah, yeah, hang on, lemme—” Kirk mumbles, pushing Dave’s hands away so he can do it himself. He briefly struggles to peel his jeans and underwear down his legs, nearly tripping and braining himself on Dave’s desk chair in the process._ _

__Dave isn’t watching, though — he’s busy stripping off, too, and by the time Kirk finally straightens up, he’s met with six glorious feet of naked rugby player._ _

For a split second, Kirk debates asking if he can have his glasses back. 

__Dave has other plans, though. He's back in Kirk's personal space in an instant, rucking his shirt up to his armpits with an exhilarating degree of impatience._ _

__“Hang on, man, gimme a minute,” Kirk protests weakly, already raising his arms to help. Dave pulls the shirt up off over his head in one effortless motion and tosses it somewhere on the floor._ _

__“You—” Kirk starts to say, but the sentence is immediately lost to a shuddery inhale; Dave’s hands are busy roaming over his skinny chest, his ribs, to his waist, down to his hips, and then over his ass, gripping, pulling him in closer, the hard length of him flush against Kirk’s stomach as he crushes their mouths together. Kirk's entire body feels hot and cold at the same time._ _

__“Bed,” Dave mutters rather cavemannishly, stepping them back in the direction of the mattress.__

____

____

Kirk’s stomach swoops. His hands fly up to Dave's chest as he's tipped off-balance, breath catching in his throat, and Dave pauses. 

“You trust me?”

__Kirk nods. "Y-yeah. Sure. Of course."__

____

____

__Dave hasn’t given him any reason not to, he figures; and besides, he really, really wants to know where this is headed._ _

__He lets Dave walk him backwards and manhandle him onto the bed, until he’s lying on his side on top of the sheets with Dave tucked up behind him, his left bicep under Kirk’s head with his forearm looping around his chest. It’s oddly intimate. Like spooning, maybe. Dave’s right hand is smoothing over Kirk’s stomach, squeezing his hipbone, moving down to his ass and then the back of his thigh, pulling his top leg up, calloused fingers grazing over his balls._ _

__He withdraws for a second to spit in his hand and Kirk draws a shallow breath, tensing up. He’s about to call time out, maybe, to stop and remind Dave that hey, no fucking way, they need lube and a condom if he wants to do that, he can’t just—_ _

__Before he can begin to object, he feels the blunt head of Dave’s cock nudge in behind his balls, slick with spit as he slowly thrusts into the space between the soft skin of Kirk’s thighs._ _

Kirk makes a shocked little sound and thinks, _Oh_. 

__“Okay?” Dave says, breathing a little heavier._ _

__“Y-yeah,” Kirk falters._ _

__He finds himself pulling his knees up a fraction, pressing his thighs together a little more tightly. Dave’s breath is hot against the back of his neck, his lips drifting aimlessly over Kirk’s shoulder as he starts to thrust in earnest. When Kirk reaches for his own neglected dick, Dave beats him to it, brushing his hand away and curling his own calloused palm around it instead._ _

__“Good boy,” Dave says, practically purring it into his ear, and oh, God, Kirk will not be held accountable for the slutty little groan that slips out of his mouth._ _

Combined with the steady fist working him over, the rhythmic push of Dave’s cock between his thighs is intoxicatingly goddamn hot. He could almost imagine they’re fucking for real, like this; with Dave behind him, pushing in slow, muttering into Kirk’s ear, sucking bruises into the skin of his neck. Amid the steady, chugging rhythm of _Countess Bathory_ crescendoing around them, the whole thing feels almost gentle. 

__“Fuck,” Kirk says eloquently, mouth dropping open. The words come out sounding slurred and lazy as he reaches back, one sweat-sticky hand splaying across Dave’s hip, urging him on. “Fuck, Dave, fuck me.”_ _

__“Yeah, baby,” Dave murmurs. “Fucking gorgeous. Such a good boy, taking my cock so good.”_ _

__He slings his upper leg a bit more firmly over Kirk as he says it, letting the weight of his body push Kirk over onto his stomach. He has to let go of Kirk’s dick to do it, but there’s no time to mourn that loss before Dave is picking up speed, nailing him into the mattress, the solid slap of his hips hitting Kirk’s ass audible even over his stream of filthy praises and the thick, pounding growl of the music._ _

__Kirk loses himself in it. He's swimming in the haze for what feels like hours, mouth slack as his groans and whimpers slip out inimpeded. It occurs to him that he's probably leaking precum all over Dave’s sheets, but he doesn't fucking care; he can't even bother to try to worm a hand under his stomach and take himself in hand. He knows going to come just from this, anyways. From Dave Mustaine fucking his thighs raw, the thick hardness of him sliding up against Kirk’s perineum, nudging at his balls as his eyes roll back and he moans like a fucking whore about it._ _

__“Gonna come for me?” Dave pants in his ear. “Gonna come on my cock?” His weight is a hot presence along the line of Kirk’s back, skin slightly sticky with sweat where they collide._ _

__Kirk doesn't trust himself to speak. He just nods fervently into the sheets and chokes out a groan, his left hand curling into the pillow beside him with an iron grip. The friction of the bedspread is too much, too raw, too rough against his feverish skin. His balls are drawing up. He wants Dave inside of him, pounding into him, stretching him out. He wants this for real. He wants—_ _

__“So fuckin’ tiny,” Dave bites out, shoving his hips forward, and that’s what finally sends Kirk tumbling over the edge._ _

__He wails as he comes, turning his face to muffle the sound in the sheets as he spills onto the sheets beneath himself. It's like a full-body shudder. His feet clench up and his thighs squeeze even tighter together, lightning jolting down his spine, everything going numb and oversensitive all at once as Dave keeps fucking him through it, hips snapping sharply._ _

__“Fuck,” Kirk hears him say. “Fuck, Kirk, I’m gonna—”_ _

__“Come on me,” Kirk says, borderline delirious. “Come on me, wanna feel you.”_ _

__It only takes a few more clumsy thrusts and then Dave is coming, spilling warm and wet between his thighs and over the crack of his ass, splattering against the small of his back._ _

__For a second there’s just panting between them, and then Kirk feels Dave shift, his softening cock dragging over Kirk’s ass. Two of his fingers slide through the mess, smearing it further into the skin of his back. Kirk moans anew._ _

__It’s depraved, is what it is; fucked out and covered in come, in the upstairs bedroom of a frat house while the party rages on downstairs. He swears he’s died and gone to heaven._ _

__After a moment, Dave’s weight lifts from the backs of Kirk’s thighs and he drops to the bed beside him. Kirk turns his head to meet his eye, relieved to find the good-natured glint of satisfaction there. He can't help the stupid, dopey grin that spreads across his face._ _

__“So, ‘s it true?” he asks sluggishly._ _

__Dave musters a frown. “Is what true?”_ _

__“Do I give the best blowjobs?”_ _

__

__+_ _

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! if youre interested, the sequel to this work can be found [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26229781).
> 
> as always, feel free to come say hi on tumblr @[shotgunmessiahs](http://shotgunmessiahs.tumblr.com) anytime 💕


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